


We Don't Talk About It

by vinylwave



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27930748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinylwave/pseuds/vinylwave
Summary: Bellatrix pulls back with a pout.“I thought you’d be happy to see me.”Hermione sighs. It’s always the same.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 11
Kudos: 162





	We Don't Talk About It

Hermione wakes with a start and sits up straight. 

How long had she been asleep?

She groggily sits up, hand immediately going to the horrid crick in her neck. 

_That’s what I get for falling asleep at my desk again_ , she thinks. 

Too many nights in a row now Hermione had found herself waking up at her desk. Being the Minister for Magic and finally being able to make a change in the wizarding world was always her greatest dream, but she hadn’t exactly foreseen the mental and physical toll it would take on her. 

Still, she wouldn’t give it up for the world. This is what she had fought tooth and nail for. It’s what she sacrificed her adolescence for. It’s her only reward for having to grow up far too fast and having to watch her friends die around her. 

_Knock, knock, knock._

Oh. Right. That’s what had woken her up. 

_But who would be at the door at this-_

“‘Miiione! Open up, I know you’re home!” 

A shrill but drowsy giggle follows the slurred yelling and Hermione knows exactly who it is. 

It’s not exactly an often occurrence but it is a constant in her life at this point. And it’s not a constant that she wants the whole neighborhood knowing about. So, she resigns herself to open her door to this person for the third time that month. She runs down the staircase, pulling her robe tighter around her and slows her pace as she reaches her front door. Hermione briefly considers not opening it and pretending she’s asleep, but she knows Bellatrix doesn’t give up that easily. 

As soon as the door creaks open, Hermione is greeted with arms flung around her neck and she is pulled tightly into a hug. 

“Bellatrix,” Hermione protests softly but firmly. 

Bellatrix pulls back with a pout. 

“I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Hermione sighs. It’s always the same. 

It’s true that Bellatrix Black, in those final moments of the war, renounced the Dark Lord and struck a wounding spell at him in order for Harry to catch him off guard. It’s also true that she was a spy for Dumbledore, just like Snape, after her time in Azkaban. But that doesn’t erase everything she did before her change of heart. 

It certainly doesn’t erase what she did that night at Malfoy Manor all to keep up her act.

It doesn’t matter that she came to Hermione after it all ended and offered to make the scar go away. It doesn’t mean a thing that she offered to obliviate the memory of the torture. And it doesn’t affect Hermione at all when Bellatrix comes to her, sometimes drunk, and always crying for forgiveness a few times every month without fail. 

Hermione thinks it would be weak to forgive her even if Bellatrix has probably apologized to her over a million times and offered to do anything to fix what she did. She already lets the witch in every time she comes knocking, which Hermione believes is already a much too grand gesture of decency. 

And Hermione Granger is not weak. She had decided that right after what happened at Malfoy Manor.

But that’s neither here nor there. That was long ago. 

“I...I’m happy that you’re safe,” is what Hermione finally decides to say. “Get in here.”

A giddy smile forms on Bellatrix’s face and she stumbles through the entryway to the couch, which she’s much too well acquainted with for Hermione’s taste. She drapes herself across the cushions like she owns it. 

The living room is dark, save for the beams of light that stream through the windows from the streetlights outside. Hermione finds her gaze fixed on the way that Bellatrix’s pale skin seems to have a glow to it when the light finds her face, but she quickly snaps out of it and puts on that mask of disinterest that she’s so used to wearing on nights like these. 

Bellatrix just stares and smiles lazily at her but Hermione can see the sadness behind those dark eyes of hers. She heads to the kitchen herself to start the kettle, hoping to escape the awkward silence. 

“Y’know,” Bellatrix starts as if she’s talking to herself. “I think yours is the only address I’ve memorized in my entire life” 

Hermione turns and stares at her from the kitchen. 

“I’ve never gone to anyone’s house as often as I do yours.” 

She’s grasping. She wants any kind of response. She’ll take anything from Hermione in moments like these and Hermione is well aware of this. So, she remains silent and turns back to start the stove. 

“I’m getting quite old, Hermione,” she tries again. “Fifty-six years. That’s a long time to have only memorized one address” 

She giggles at her own words. 

_What a child_ , Hermione thinks. 

And she might as well be one. Hermione knows how the Black family worked. Children were considered adults as soon as they could walk and punishment was the only way they were taught anything. She knows Bellatrix took the brunt of the punishment so her younger sisters could have something akin to a normal childhood but not quite. Hermione knows that was brave of her if not somewhat insane, and she does respect Bellatrix for doing that. 

She respects her but she still doesn’t like her. Or enjoy her company for that matter, so she decides it’s time to hurry this visit along. 

“Would you like some tea?” She asks as she strides back into the living room. “I’ve got the kettle on.”

Bellatrix looks disinterested. Or disappointed, Hermione can’t tell. 

“I was hoping you might have some firewhiskey actually, darling,” she chuckles softly and looks at Hermione again. “They cut me off at the Broomsticks again.”

Hermione actually laughs at this. 

“Well, you do tend to go overboard with the firewhiskey, Bella. You know this.” 

Oops. Maybe she didn’t notice? She is rather drunk. Hermione pretends not to hone all of her senses onto Bellatrix, trying to see what her reaction might be in the dim lighting. 

Bellatrix’s eyes widen and her whole face lights up so brightly that Hermione suddenly wants to look anywhere but at that brilliant face. 

“You called me Bellaaa!” Bellatrix sing-songs with a smirk lighting up her face.

Hermione doesn’t answer. She wills herself to not show any emotion at all. 

Bellatrix’s face falls a bit. 

“You haven’t called me that in a very long time,” Bellatrix whispers. 

“I’m aware.”

There's silence for a while. Just staring into each other’s eyes. It’s a challenge and both of them know it. 

And then the kettle goes off. 

Hermione takes this as her chance to defuse whatever tension she just created as she retreats back to the kitchen. She pours two cups with shaky hands. She had sworn that she wouldn’t let her guard down like that around that woman again, not after... well, never mind it. 

Steeling herself with a deep breath, Hermione takes the cups in her hands and leaves the kitchen to seat herself in the chair across from Bellatrix. She offers the cup of tea to her. 

“Thank you, darling.”

Well, she seems willing to move past it, at least. But she still hasn’t stopped staring at Hermione’s face like a hawk. She looks as though she’s trying to memorize every single detail. 

“You always look so beautiful when you wake up with ink on your cheeks,” Bellatrix sighs dreamily. “You fell asleep at your desk again didn’t you?” 

Hermione would like to be able to laugh at this. If it were anyone else - Ginny or Luna even - she would. But she can’t. She won’t show any weakness. 

“That’s none of your business,” she snarks. “Drink your tea.”

“So bossy tonight, hm?” Bellatrix sips her tea with a raised eyebrow. “Perhaps a drink of a... _stronger persuasion_ would help you loosen up, dear.” 

Hermione can practically feel her blood boiling. How does that witch manage to get under her skin so easily? Hermione knows that were she not drunk, she wouldn’t be this brazen with her words. Perhaps that’s why she shows up drunk most of the time. 

“Bellatrix, no. We both know what happens when we drink together and I will not allow... _that_... to happen again.” She’s put her foot down. 

Bellatrix frowns. She looks down at the couch cushion and her brows furrow as if she’s in pain. She’s silent for a while. 

Finally she speaks. 

“I truly am sorry about that. You know I am,” she mumbles. “I should never have even thought about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I forgive you,” Hermione shoots back, having already known what Bellatrix was going to say. 

Bellatrix looks up at her. Her eyes are glassy and Hermione knows she’s about to start crying. 

“Will you ever?” She asks, hopeful. 

Hermione averts her gaze from the witch and scoffs. 

“You know the answer to that.” 

She hears a growl and then...

“How many times do I have to say it!” 

And here comes the explosion. Wherever Bellatrix goes, it seems explosions and chaos follow. 

She jumps off the couch to stand unsteadily. 

“I only wanted to protect you!” She yells at the top of her lungs. 

Hermione casts a wordless muffliato spell so the neighbors don’t worry and braces herself. 

“I know what I did was wrong! You think I don’t hate myself every single day for every single thing I’ve done? That I don’t _suffer_ for my actions?” she gulps down a breath to continue. “I apologized everyday for the longest time, in every single way I could think of, until you stopped answering my letters! I offered to make it go away! I still can! Let me make it go away, Hermione!” 

Bellatrix lunges forward to brace her hands on the coffee table that separates them. Hermione startles out of instinct but knows that staying seated is her best option right now because if she allows herself to engage, she knows she’ll get just as emotional. 

_Just let her get it out of her system_ , she says to herself. 

“Please!” Bellatrix looks absolutely desperate. “Please, let me take it away?” 

Her voice is softer with the last sentence but her eyes speak so very loud. Hermione takes a deep breath to speak but Bellatrix beats her to it. 

“I think about it every day, you know. What I did to you.”

Hermione swallows hard. 

“I think about your screams and your blood. I think about how your body shook underneath me. I think about how desperately I wanted to stop. I think about how scared of me you were afterwards. I think about the time you finally let me in after I started coming ‘round and we kissed. I think about if it meant anything. I think about what you yelled at me afterwards. I think about how you refused to let me get rid of the scar and the memories. Why did you want to keep them Hermione?” 

Bellatrix searches Hermione’s face for some kind of answer. 

“Please tell me,” she begs. “I just don’t understand. I want to. I’ll never bother you again if you just tell me why you won’t let me fix it, I promise you.” 

“You said you would never bring that kiss up again,” is all Hermione says. 

Bellatrix huffs out a bitter laugh. 

“Technically, you brought it up.”

Hermione gives Bellatrix a small smile at this. 

“I did, didn’t I?” She pauses. “I’m sorry I acted that way towards you after we... after we kissed. You didn’t deserve that. We were both drunk and it just-“

“You’re avoiding the question.”

It’s so blunt and devoid of emotion that it takes Hermione aback for a moment. She thinks maybe Bellatrix does deserve an answer. She’s been coming around for the past 5 years begging for answers, for forgiveness, and it’s rather cruel to keep them from her the way she is, Hermione thinks. 

But, gods, will it hurt to tell her. It’ll hurt to tear down the walls she’s been carefully constructing for over a decade. But she does know that Bellatrix is truly sorry. She knows that she should have forgiven her and moved on with it years ago. 

And she doesn’t really want Bellatrix to stop coming around, no matter how annoying it may be. 

“I...” she doesn’t know where to begin. 

She takes a breath and Bellatrix sits back on the couch, all of her attention completely focused on the younger witch in front of her. 

“I needed the reminders to stay there so I wouldn’t do something stupid.” Hermione hopes it will suffice as an answer. 

Bellatrix blinks but doesn’t say anything. 

Hermione tries to think of something to say to alleviate the painful silence. 

“What I mean is-“

“What could be so stupid that you’d want that horrible word on your body for the rest of your life?” 

Gods, Hermione really should get used to how blunt Bella is sometimes. She balls her fists and looks away. 

“Don’t make me say it.” 

“Say it.”

“I don’t-“

“Say it!” Bellatrix demands, her voice heavy with emotions, and she’s on her feet again but she still doesn’t dare come close to Hermione. 

More deafening silence. 

“Why do you think I kissed you that time, Bella?” She sighs. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my bloody head since I first saw you at the Department of Mysteries. Do you realize how sick that is? Neville is my friend and there I was eyeing up the death eater that tortured his parents to insanity!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“But you did it Bella! You did! You followed Voldemort so goddamn blindly back then that you did that sort of thing for fun!” She inhales sharply. “You...you killed Sirius! He was all Harry had left and, yet, I _still_ couldn’t stop thinking about you, even after seeing what Harry went through after he was gone!” 

Hermione didn’t even realize until that moment how this has been a very long time coming. It feels so cathartic to just scream out everything she’s kept locked away for all these years. 

“I changed!” Bellatrix’s voice breaks as she says this and Hermione can now see the tears streaming down her pale face. “Yes, I did horrible things that I can’t take back no matter how much I want to, but I changed! When he came back, I did everything I could to help you and your bloody friends but I even fucked that up!” 

Bellatrix seemingly relaxes a bit and circles the table as Hermione jumps to her feet. 

“You’ve thought about me?” She asks much, much softer. Hermione hardly recognizes her voice. “Often?” 

Hermione wants to keep yelling in her face about all the things she’s done, she does. But the deafening intensity of those words, softly whispered, makes all the fight leave Hermione’s body. 

“I did. And I do, still.” 

It’s time to be honest. She doesn’t know how much longer she could have kept her feelings locked up anyways. 

“How?” 

Bellatrix looks confused and Hermione could just scream. There’s no way she’s spelling it out for her after all she’s just confessed.

“Bella, please.” A sigh. “Why is it you think I let you in every single time you bang on my door in the middle of the night? Why do you think I kissed you back that night when I foolishly let all my walls down around you?”

Bellatrix doesn’t answer, just stands motionless in front of Hermione. So Hermione keeps going because it’s now or never. 

“I wanted to keep the scars and the memories so I would remember that you did terrible, unimaginable things to so many people. My friends, their families, _me_ ! I didn’t want to... I _couldn’t_ let myself have...feelings for you. Do you see now?” 

Bellatrix drops to her knees so quickly, if Hermione blinked she would’ve missed it. Sobs wrack through her whole body and she tentatively reaches up to grasp onto Hermione’s robe. She rests her head so tenderly on Hermione’s knees that Hermione’s heart aches. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that to me a million times do-“

“I’m so sorry, Hermione.” She’s full on crying now. “You...you really felt something for me. You felt that way for me and I did those things to you.” Bellatrix chokes down a sob. “I wish I could make it all go away. I wish I could have had a normal family, maybe then I wouldn’t have turned out to be a monster. Gods, I wish I could take away all the hurt I’ve caused so badly.”

Hermione closes her eyes and cautiously runs her fingers through Bella’s tangled hair. And part of her hates herself for it. Part of her wants to run away right now and never look back. Screw her home and her job. Bellatrix doesn’t deserve a single act of kindness especially from her and that one part of her is disgusted by the kindness she’s showing this woman right now. But another part of her is absolutely shrieking with joy. How long has she yearned to intertwine her fingers with those raven black curls? 

“Everyone has forgiven you Bella. Even Neville, even Harry. You saved everyone’s lives that day.” Hermione doesn’t really know where she’s going with this but Bellatrix looks so tired. She’s so tiny and broken compared to the brave and brilliant woman Hermione saw openly defying Voldemort on the crumbled remains of Hogwarts that day.

“Bellatrix, please just come sit down and drink your tea. I promise you, you’ve been forgiven for all of that,” she pleads as she extends a hand for Bellatrix to take.

Bellatrix looks up through her curls with glassy eyes. 

“Not everyone,” she whispers. 

“What?” 

“Not everyone has forgiven me.” Bellatrix takes Hermione’s hand to stand at her level now. 

Hermione knows exactly what she means. Still, she remains silent, not knowing exactly what to say. 

“You haven’t forgiven me.”

And it stings. Hermione has heard sentences akin to that from Bellatrix numerous times in the past, but it hurts much more now that she’s no longer keeping up a facade.

Instead of replying, Hermione tightens her grip on Bellatrix’s hand and gently guides her to follow her to the couch. They sit next to each other but Hermione notices Bellatrix shift away just the tiniest bit. 

She takes a shaky breath. It has to end at some point. 

“Bellatrix,” she starts. “I do forgive you. I think I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, I just couldn’t admit it. I...I know that you did what you did to protect everyone. It doesn’t make it right but...I do know. Gods, I should’ve just let you get rid of it. I don’t know why I tried to push you away so hard - well, I do, but...” 

She takes a moment to collect her thoughts. 

“I was scared,” Hermione sighs. “I was so scared of what I felt for you. I was scared of what everyone would think. I think...I think I was mostly scared that I still felt something for you after what you did. It felt wrong. To still care about you after everything you did.”

The tears finally fall from Hermione’s eyes as the truth comes out. Bellatrix is crying again, too, but silently now. Hermione wipes her eyes and patiently waits for a response. 

Bellatrix shifts and sighs as though a dreadful weight has been lifted from her. 

“Thank you.” 

Hermione expects more to follow so she doesn’t respond but it quickly becomes apparent that that was Bellatrix’s complete thought. 

“You’re...welcome, Bellatrix.”

“You deserve to feel like that, you know. I don’t deserve to have someone like you care about me after all I’ve done.”

It breaks Hermione’s heart. 

“But you do deserve it!” Hermione blurts out, louder than she would’ve liked. 

Bellatrix laughs. 

“For the brightest witch of her age, you say some pretty dumb things.” 

This makes Hermione let out a giggle. It’s been so hard trying not to laugh at the things Bellatrix says to her all these years. 

“I do, but this is the truth, Bella,” she says. 

Bellatrix smiles warmly at her and then...goes to stand up.

“Thank you, Hermione Granger, for everything.” 

“What- where are you going?” Hermione asks puzzled. 

Bellatrix shrugs. “I dunno yet. But I made a promise and you gave me what I wanted. I’ve got to keep at least some of my promises.”

It hits her. She promised she would leave Hermione alone if she just told her everything.

“No.” 

“What?”

“No! You’re not leaving,” Hermione feels her world falling out from under her after she’s just solidified it. 

“Didn’t you want me to?” Bellatrix seems genuinely confused. 

Hermione lowers her voice and tries not to let her desperation show. She did want Bellatrix to leave but that was before she had finally told her how she felt. Before she tore down every last bit of the walls she had built up between them. She had assumed Bellatrix would take that as meaning to disregard her promise to leave. 

“I did but - no, you’re drunk and you need to rest.” Hermione goes to take her hand and pull her back down next to her. “Please, Bella, listen. I really don’t want you to go.”

She pleads with her eyes for Bellatrix to understand. 

“I don’t...I don’t know if I should stay, ‘Mione,” Bellatrix sighs. “I’ve caused you enough pain. Me, staying...it...it’ll only hurt you more and I can’t do that to you again.”

“You don’t know that!” Hermione feels herself getting ready to cry again. She feels as though she’s only just got Bellatrix and now she’s about to lose her. 

Bellatrix looks down at her doubtfully. 

Hermione stands up and takes both of Bellatrix’s hands. She looks Bellatrix in the eyes. 

“Just...stay for the night?” She asks. “We both need rest. Just stay for the night, Bella. We can talk more tomorrow but...I don’t want you to go, I really don’t.”

Hermione hopes with all her heart that this works. 

Bellatrix looks around, anywhere but Hermione’s eyes, and settles for staring at her feet for a moment. 

“Are you certain?” She asks finally. 

Hermione lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“I’m certain, Bella.”

Bellatrix glances up and they both smile tentatively at each other before Hermione stands and Bellatrix goes to lay back down on the couch, just as she did when this whole night started.

Hermione debates what she wants to do for a second before-

“Oh, sod it, scoot over.”

“Huh? Oh!” Bellatrix freezes as Hermione curls into her side on the couch, pulling a blanket over them both from the top of the couch. “Hermione, I...well, I can take the couch. Go get in your bed.”

Hermione hums as her whole body goes warm from how close she is to Bellatrix right now. She’s so tired of the hating and the fighting. Right now, all she wants is to stay like this until they inevitably have to really talk about everything. 

“‘Wanna hold you. Can I?” She whispers. 

There’s no answer. Hermione hastily tries to backtrack so as to not overstep.

“I can go to my bed if you want I’m s-“

“No, stay. Please?”

Relief floods through Hermione and she shifts closer to Bellatrix, laying her head just above Bellatrix’s heart. 

“Of course, Bella. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Hermione,” Bellatrix murmurs. And then, even softer, “Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I've written in a real hot minute so do be gentle please <3


End file.
